


Thunderbirds Are Go – ‘Eye Of The Storm’

by countessofsnark



Category: Thunderbirds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 03:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15379335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countessofsnark/pseuds/countessofsnark
Summary: Based on a prompt by @wonderavianThe boys decide to spend some time at the farm. They have some fun, of course, but the universe has an unwelcome surprise for them in the form of a hurricane.





	Thunderbirds Are Go – ‘Eye Of The Storm’

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt by @wonderavian
> 
> _The boys decide to spend some time at the farm. They have some fun, of course, but the universe has an unwelcome surprise for them in the form of a hurricane._

The sky above Kansas began to change. Grandma Tracy sighs as she notices the first signs of possible trouble on the horizon. She zips up her faithful tracksuit and follows the tantalizing smell of pancakes that has made its way to the upper floor of the farmhouse. Downstairs, the boys and Kayo have gathered around the dining room table, all but fighting over who gets the final pancake before Virgil walks in carrying another tray of steaming pancakes.

‘Last one, guys. Dig in,’ Virgil says, quickly claiming some to feed his own stomach, which has been protesting loudly for the past half hour. 

Maple syrup, cane sugar, Nutella, and lots of peanut butter are handed around. They even managed to convince John to spend some quality time on Earth while EOS runs Thunderbird 5 and monitors IR’s communication duties from orbit. 

‘Wow, I’m stuffed,’ Gordon sighs, loudly pushing his chair back and leaning back to give his bloated stomach some room.

‘Maybe you shouldn’t have attacked your plate like a starving wolf,’ Scott tut-tuts.

‘But they’re so good. Virgil, you are a real kitchen fairy.’

Virgil’s cheeks flush the same shade of red as the plaid shirt he loves to wear. 

‘Guys, it’s just a family recipe. Nothing special about that,’ he shrugs.

‘Well, I for one am ready to handle a day of farm work,’ Alan says as he jumps up and shimmies towards the door.

‘Can’t believe Alan is excited about farm chores,’ Gordon moans. He joined his brothers thinking there’d be hammocks and porch swings galore. Instead, he was told to feed the horses and empty out their stables.

‘Remember, Gordon. Work hard, play harder.’

‘Sure, Scott. All work and no play make Gordon a very tired boy.’

‘You’re kind of enjoying the fact that he’s going to suffer through today, aren’t you?’ Virgil smirks behind Scott while Gordon shuffles out the door.

‘Yes and no. We’ve all had to learn to earn our peace and quiet. And these two will never stop surprising me. I figured Alan would put on the biggest show but seems Gordon can sulk for both of them.’

‘Well, better keep an eye on him then.’

‘Sorry, bro. I’ve got business to tend to. So I’m leaving Gordo Watch to you,’ Scott says, patting a visibly disgruntled Virgil.

‘You really are the gift that keeps on giving, Scott.’

Shortly after tea time, the grey skies darken and the breeze that’s been playing about all day intensifies. 

Gordon looks up, wiping sweat off his brow. His blonde locks have sagged, much to his dismay. Maybe he’ll just have to add more gel. He looks over at Virgil, who is busy repairing Grandma’s old tractor.

_How the devil does he keep that comb looking fly while lying under that smelly rusty thing all day?_

The wind chimes outside the porch door begin to swing violently, their sweet tingling turning alarming as the wind sweeps them this way and that.

‘Hey, looks like the weather gods finally turned up the A/C,’ Gordon chuckles, spreading his arms and twirling like a drunk ballerina.

Virgil hoists his body from under the tractor, wiping oil-stained hands on his dirty grey tank top. He looks at the darkening sky above and squints. 

Just then, a truck pulls up in the driveway. John jumps out, carrying a stack of maps and measuring equipment. Even during his downtime, he can’t help watching out for meteorological phenomena. However, to him the solitary research is also a handy way to meet his introvert needs while making himself somewhat useful.

‘That is no ordinary breeze,’ John says in a stern voice. ‘Go find Scott. We’ve got a situation.’

Alan races toward the stable, almost stumbling over the raised entrance as he pushes open the heavy wooden door. 

‘SCOTT! Scott, we need you! There’s a hurri-a hurricane heading our way!’ Alan blurts out, before looking up at the haystack at the back of the barn. ‘Scott, you gotta-OH MY GOD.’

Alan covers his eyes and spins around as Scott and the girl next door scramble to cover their naked bodies. 

‘Alan, I can explain,’ Scott begins, his mouth suddenly drier than a patch of Sahara.

Alan, meanwhile, is producing sounds that are a cross between heaving and crying hysterically at the sight that met his tender eyes. He doesn’t wait for that promised explanation and flees the scene.

A few moments later, Scott and his partner-in-crime have managed to slip back into their crumpled clothes. The barn door, which had been left wide open by Alan’s escape, is now fluttering and flapping madly as the wind howls all around them. Scott’s previously occupied mind has rewon its charge of blood and begins to analyse the severity of the situation.

By the time the hurricane reaches the farm and the surrounding town, it has built up to a fierce category 4. The howling wind has turned into a menacing roar, carrying all matter of swept up debris in its spinning funnel. No further time is wasted evacuating the farm. In the middle of the ensuing chaos, Alan avoids all eye contact with his eldest sibling and the pig-tailed blonde girl with whom he had been frolicking in the hay. Grandma notices the looks Scott and his would-be girlfriend have been exchanging and subtly decides to intervene.

‘Kayo and I will take her home, now you go and make sure the townspeople get all the help they can get.’ 

Scott understands the message behind those words and nods solemnly in their direction before scooting off to Thunderbird 1, which had been parked not too far from the farm. Virgil and Gordon, meanwhile, had been securing the farm’s storm shelter, while John is already inside, comforting a dead scared Alan. 

A few hours later – which feels like an eternity to most of the Tracy boys – the storm has passed on, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. The farm is still standing proudly, built strong and unwavering by Grandma’s late husband. 

As the boys, Kayo, and Grandma emerge from the shelter, Thunderbird 1 lands nearby. Scott jumps out, his hair a dusty, dirty mess, his suit torn in places. 

‘Thunderbird 1, reporting for debriefing. A few houses have lost the battle with Mother Nature but no one has been injured. Mission accomplished.’

They all gather around Scott, moving in for a classic Tracy family group hug.


End file.
